You, among the others | 14 (snippet)
No, this is not a mirage. No, nobody hacked into my pc.
After, what?, 4 years of absence I've almost finished to write the new chapter of YATO and I wanted to leave a small snippet here.
I'll leave a full explanation of this comeback when the chapter will be out (and, to be honest, I don't know when it'll be -but it's almost finished :))) but I take the occasion to thank from the bottom of my heart whoever, in the past years, kept reading my stories; asked me to come back to writing; patiently waited for this story to have its much deserved ending.
Consider it my small present for you, and to whoever will decide to give it a chance. It doesn't make up for the long wait, but I hope it can make you fall again for these two dummies <3
Now that you think of it, there's been a circumstance, not so different from the one you're sharing right now, that suddenly pulls you back to a few years ago. Standing still at the same distance, on the defensive.
It was the very first day Min Yoongi and you met.
Bathed in the pale lights of a chaotic underground club, the pair of you were scanning each other like two ferocious beasts closed in the same cage, ready to attack. The only thing preventing you from throwing a cocktail to his face was Taehyung, with his arm around your shoulder, his thumb drawing circular patterns on your blouse, too busy talking with Jimin to take notice of the gloominess polluting the atmosphere. His voice was raspy, his laugh was rocky and cheerful, his eyes were brimmed with affection whenever he smiled at you--(you shake your head to erase these images from your mind, for your heart squealed in pain at such memory).
Your mutual hatred was palpable -born from a wrong word, an unwelcoming glance… Yoongi had ridiculous, light blue hair, thick eyebrows, sharp eyes and a small pout tugging at his lips. And you were wearing some simple clothes that clashed beside Taehyung’s polished figure or the ex-girlfriends he used to hold near him.
And now, incredible as it may seem, no trace remains of that visceral hate endured for years…
So, you gently smile at Yoongi -almost amused by the odd way your lives have intertwined.
He swallows thickly, taken aback by your softer expression. "What?"
"When we had to decide where to study, I told you I'd never set foot here because it'd be so full of you," you say, hearing those harsh words echo back into your mind. "I was wrong. It's nice, your bedroom," you add, glancing around. "Not really what I was expecting."
He arches a brow. "You thought it'd be messier?"
"Kind of, yeah.” You chuckle. “My bedroom is way messier, though..."
"Yeah, it's quite a battlefield.” Yoongi smirks, but his eyes are gentle. “That's why I like it. It's just like you.”
A shiver runs down your spine, it pinches the butterflies laying in the pit of your stomach. The way that “you” tumbled off his lips is so… sweet. Not judgeful. As if there was nothing wrong with you and the way you look or who you are.
Yoongi is the first to break the stillness, approaching the desk. He takes off the rings, they clink on the top. “You seem so perfect from the outside, but you really aren't." His eyes widen when he registers his own affirmation, turning fast to look at you. "In a good way, of course! You know, I didn't mean to--ahm, shit--" He curses under his breath.
You can't help but chuckle, tenderness tugging at the corners of your lips. "I got it. It's a nice thing, considering you're saying it." Honesty skims over your words, aware that his harshness is just a symptom of the nervousness filling the atmosphere.
His lips curl in a small pout. "I suck at words. Byeol could never get past them… but you can…” he scratches his hair. "I told you so many bullshits,” he adds with a low voice, almost… disappointed in himself. Then, he throws at you a kind of stare you can't interpret. "Why did we hate each other so much, (Y/N)?"
Your eyelids flicker fast, surprised by the fact that he brought up this topic at a moment like this. Despite the simplicity of his question though, you don't find it so easy to give him a proper explanation. You gasp for words, but they roll down your throat, leaving you completely alone to face this unexpected heart-to-heart chat.
You don't feel like throwing yourself back to that very day -to the mean things you said, to the mean things he said… you don't know where this conversation could lead the pair of you, and you're quite scared that if you adventure into this path, you could lose sight of the pieces of this new Yoongi you're slowly putting in the right place.
In the back of your mind, the pictures of the old Yoongi blend and smash with the small details of him you've grown fond of.
“I don't know… you said something about my clothes. And I said something about your hair…” you reply, unsure, shrugging. “We were drunk, we said so many things. And we never got over it." You frown, forcing yourself to not spill the truth.
That you were scared of him.
Of him, and his unbreakable friendship with Taehyung and the way his words could have shaped the impression and feelings Tae had of and for you -especially because, due to your doubts, you still weren't quite sure why he had chosen you.
Seeing your boyfriend's best friend look at you as if you weren't enough for him, made your blood seethe. You could almost hear Yoongi's thoughts despite the music pounding in your ears: how could someone like Tae—whom he knew like the back of his hand—lose his head over someone like you and introduce you to his dearest friends as his new girlfriend?
After barely two months. With a smile shaped by tenderness. With a joy that lit his eyes and gathered softly in the lines around them…
You feel a barely whispered “Tae” rise along your throat, burning as it climbs, but you swallow it before it can fly out.
If you were to speak that name now—those three small letters, stained with affection and hatred and confusion alike—you would ruin everything.
Yourself, Yoongi, and this weird but still enjoyable thing you caught yourselves into…
And so, you shrug, answering back with a simple, "Does it really matter?" that, you hope, could put an end to this conversation.
Yoongi stares at you, hard and long -so intensely you can feel every fiber of your being shivering.
Then, his tone goes softer. "No, it doesn't…"
And you feel it, his honesty.
All the hate you felt for each other, right now… it doesn't matter anymore. Not at this very moment, at least.
Yoongi swallows thickly, hesitates. Then, he catches a small breath and breaks the ocean between the pair of you, the tip of his bare feet now touching yours. Without taking his eyes off you, his trembling hands find home on your hips, applying a light pressure as if he was trying to feel the skin beneath the garment.
His scorching gaze meanders all over your face, slowly, maybe to catch the slightest hint of hesitation that could help him to take a step back.
Imperceptibly, you moisten your lips, eyes fixed on his blushed face -a silent invitation to dissipate the thin layer of air separating you.
And Yoongi doesn't wait for more…
He presses his lips on your forehead, inhaling sharply through his nose. His right hand flies into your hair, tugs at it, while the other hand gently runs over your small back to pull you closer. The light smack sound of his pecks echoes back into your ribcage -your heart is pounding so hard and fast you fear he could catch the noise it's making.
You find yourself smiling in his softness, indulging in that embrace that has nothing to do with the billions you shared until today.
It's true, Yoongi is terrible at words. But, holy shit, he's so good at conveying whatever it's whirling in his mind...
Your fingers finally uncurl from the hem of your dress and lay on his shoulder blades. You meekly follow the journey of his kisses with your head, tilting it to the side when his lips finally descend along the line of your nose to rest on your warm cheek.
Once. Twice. Thrice…
At the mercy of his soft pecks, your thoughts dissolve like molasses, slipping into the farthest recesses of your mind. And you can suddenly feel a piping hot warmth sprouting from the pit of your stomach -a force so fierceful and urgent that makes you completely forget that, just a few seconds ago, you were feeling like a deer caught in the headlights.
You need more.
You want Min Yoongi, completely.
